Playing with Fire
by cazflibs
Summary: After four years of being Ace, Rimmer realises that it's not all fun and games as the reason behind his training is revealed.


**This fic-bunny started nibbling on my ear when I rewatched one of my favourite French films, _Nikita_. If you haven't seen it already, well you _should _it's an amazing film. But more helpfully, it's a 1990 Luc Besson film (of _The Fifth Element _fame) about a female assassin, struggling to hold together the personal and professional threads of her life.**

**This fic is inspired by the infamous restaurant scene - her first ever assassination . Widely available on youtube, make sure you have a watch before you have a read. Haunting, chilling and beautiful to behold.**

**Four years into his time as Ace, Rimmer realises it's not all fun and games when the truth behind his training is revealed.**

* * *

Assassin.

It sounded like a whisper.

After all, that's what he was now. Nothing more than a hushed shadow that travelled on the wind.

Although he'd never comprehended it before, his entire training over the last four years had clearly built up to this moment; bringing down the totalitarian state of the GELF planetoid Nwaki 7 by assassinating its dictator, the nefarious Commander Vektar.

It had all been so carefully constructed that even he hadn't known the plan until he'd been standing outside the western wall of his city palace in the thick darkness of night, waiting in the shadows for his instructions.

It was then and only then that the computer had told him what he was there to do, delivering his mission objective in a swift, clipped manner before falling eerily silent once more. An icy shudder had traced up his spine as the full onslaught of what he was about to become hit him.

Three minutes. Two bullets. One target.

Drawing back further into the shadows as a distant couple hurried across the far alley, most likely escaping the gathering storm clouds, his face had hardened with resolve. Pulling out the assigned clip from his belt, he'd clicked it into his lone gun and loaded.

It had all been so easy. That was the frightening part. He'd broken into his private chamber through the ancient stained glass window and found himself face to face with the dictator himself.

Frightened and alone, that terrifying force of nature had then seemed oh-so-very mortal. Vektar had stared back with wide, grey eyes that betrayed his fear and resignation.

"Lati hekmat - " he'd mumbled. Final words that begged for salvation.

Taking swift aim, he'd fired two shots to the head. Cold and clinical, just as instructed. After all, there was no time for mistakes. No time for questions or mercy.

Having heard the commotion far too late, Vektar's personal bodyguards had burst through the bedroom door, taking in the horror of the splatters of blood that spoilt the otherwise pristine white sheets. They'd stared openly at him for a moment, with eyes that looked just as shocked as his own, before drawing forth their weapons.

The formalities dispensed with, he'd leapt through the glass window under a shower of bullets, the colours shattering to pieces in his wake as he fled across the rooftops and back into the darkness of the night once more.

But he never made it back to _Wildfire_.

Hidden in the shadows of an empty alley, Rimmer slumped loosely against the wall where he now sat, the heavy rain beating down mercilessly on his defenceless frame. He wasn't sure how long he'd simply sat there like that; motionless in the darkness, his eyes glazed in a sightless stare. His clothes were now soaked through, his toes squelching in his boots as he curled them back against the cold.

His entire being shivered.

For years as a soft-light hologram, he'd have given anything to be able to feel. Now his mind begged for the ignorance of numbness. He didn't want to _feel _anything.

Murderer.

The computer had told him bluntly that it was part of his job. But surely a job was something he could forget about at night? It wasn't something he'd have to carry with him in his dreams, or try to push aside as it haunted his every waking moment. By killing Vektar, he'd lost a part of himself. The innocence was gone.

Of course, as Ace he'd killed before. Fighting alongside the Blerion GELFs, their long, hard battle had resulted in the destruction of the simulant ship _SS Balthazar, _ending their reign of terror. But that was war. That had been faceless. This was one-on-one calculated murder.

And with Commander Vektar's murder came the death of his tyrannous, totalitarian state. The people of Nwaki 7 were free. They would sing Rimmer's praises. However, he would weep his loss.

The sky gave a low rumble of thunder as the rain continued to pour, as if too were mourning.

"_Ace, you have to get moving_," the computer instructed firmly, her words echoing silently in his mind._ "Come back to the ship. Let the dust settle."_

With the thick droplets catching on his lashes, Rimmer's dark eyes flitted down to the gun by his hand. It sat, still and silent in expectation.

Murderer.

"_Ace, are you coming?"_

He swallowed dryly. This was a path he wasn't coming back from.

Quivering visibly, he picked himself up and the gun with it; a weapon that, in his hands, would kill again. He nodded wordlessly.

The cold steel slid back easily into its holster, hanging heavy on his waist as he slipped away into the shadows. A weight he knew he'd have to bear for the rest of his days.

With a chilling shudder of dread, he realised the truth. The most frightening part wasn't how easy it had been. It was how quickly he could shrug it off and move on. The chilling nonchalance.

He was playing with fire. And loving it.


End file.
